I don't want to go
by Vxnessa163
Summary: Teen!chesters, Two-shot Dean gets severely injured on a werewolf hunt and things aren't looking good. hurt!Dean worried!John, NOT A DEATH!FIC (Inspired by THAT Peter/Tony scene in Infinity war, but no spoilers)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So after watching _Infinity war_ this kind of scene was stuck in my head for quite some time now and I finally decided to write it down. English is not my native language so beware. Also is this my first fanfiction so reviews are gladly appreciated. Enjoy! **

(John's POV)

Blood… so much blood... that was the only thing John Winchester's mind could register at this very moment. Like in trance he stared at his hands, decorated in warm, sticky, blood.

A human body contains about 5 to 6 litres of blood. That's what Sam had taught him last week while learning for some test for school. John was doing some research on a possible hunt and couldn't get Sam to shut up about human anatomy. "I beg you didn't know that, Dad" "You're right I didn't, Sammy", he had replied with an exasperated sigh. Indeed John never thought he would ever think about such random information in his life ever again but here he was, while caked in blood that wasn't even his own.

A soft whimper brought the oldest Winchester back to reality. His eyes refocused on his 14 year-old son laying helplessly on the cold forest ground with 3 deep lacerations from a werewolf claw in his stomach about to bleed to death.

John sprung back into action and started examining his son's wounds, trying to blend out the pained moans as good as he could. "You're doing great, Dean. Everything will be alright", he said in a soft voice giving reassuring smiles. He could tell how Dean was clinging to every word he said, desperately wanting to believe his Dad, although he and John both knew better.

This was not just a little scratch which would heal with a bandage and some good night's sleep. This needed stitching fast and at this point eventually even a blood transfusion. Even tough John tried to hide it, Dean could see right behind the façade. He could tell how worried his Dad was.

Dean always could do that, seeing into people, always knowing their true feelings, even if they tried to hide them. He definitely got that from his mother. John had always admired and sometimes envied him for that, especially when it came to Sam.

It seemed like Dean was the only one who had a chance of communicating with the youngest Winchester nowadays. Every time John tried to build up a conversation, it always ended in an intense fight and Sam not talking with him for the next few days. He really was at a loss with the boy at the moment.

To Dean that never happened. He always knew how to handle the Teenager. John knew that that was somewhat his fault. He was away too often to build up a close relationship with his youngest. So of course was Dean more of a father figure to Sam than he ever will be. Realising that made his heart ache every time, but he told himself he was doing the right thing. Saving people, hunting things, he made the world a better place. He kept his sons safe, right? It was situations like this where he started questioning everything he did.

Dean whimpered when John tried to get the ripped T-shirt off of his son's stomach, some already dried blood making it a lot more painful and difficult.

"Almost got it. You're doing great, buddy", John whispered softly. When he didn't get any reply or other sound, he looked up worried, just to find his son laying motionless, his eyes closed.

"Hey, common I need you to stay awake, Dean". John slightly padded Dean's cheek. His son awoke with a moan and the oldest Winchester sighed in relief. "It's important that you stay awake. Remember, I taught you that", John said. Dean just gave a curt nod. His lips tightly pressed together, to not let any sound escape, his green eyes big, glassy and full of pain. It hurt to see his son like that, but John couldn't focus on comforting him right now, he had other work to do: making sure Dean didn't bleed to death right now.

"Alright", John turned his attention back to the wounds. He took off his already ruined flannel and ripped it into strips, to use as temporary bandages. He secured them around Dean's stomach, and told him to put pressure on them. Dean obeyed and pressed his trembling hands onto his stomach with all the strength he had left. John fished his cell phone out of his pocket, not leaving Dean out of his sight.

"Bobby? This is John. I need your help." John shortly explained the situation to Bobby, who said he would be there in 2 hours, but John knew Dean wouldn't last that long, at least not without any medical help. So they only had one choice. John returned to his son and crouched down in front of him. Dean blinked up at him through half-lidded eyes, his face way too pale for John's liking.

"Alright, Dean. Help is on the way. Bobby will be here as fast as he can, but we can't wait for him here. I need to stich up the wounds and the first aid kid is in the Impala. So we have to walk back there", John hesitated shortly then continued: "Do you think you're up to that?"

"Yes s-sir", Dean replied determination visible on his face only his shaky voice giving him away. He was already trying to get up on his own, when John interfered. "Alright, slow down, buddy." John wrapped his arm carefully around his son's slim waist, and helped him up.

The walk back to the car was slow and so loud, if they hadn't killed the werewolf already, they definitely would have been his dinner by now. But John didn't think about complaining. He was glad that Dean was still upright at this point. The blood loss was visibly weakening his son which only urged John to go faster.

All of the sudden his thoughts wandered to his other son. Sam was probably worried sick by now back at the motel room, where they had left him. _"Don't worry Sammy, just a little werewolf hunt. We'll be back in no time, you'll see"_. That's what Dean had said and still Sam had begged them to tag along. Right now John thanked God for the decision of leaving him in the motel room. Who knows what could have happened. He really couldn't handle both of his sons hurt right now.

Lost in thought, John didn't notice a root sticking out of the ground. Before he could register what was happening he stumbled and hit the ground taking Dean down with him.

The next thing he heard was Dean's cries of agony. In one motion he was at his son's side trying to comfort his boy. Dean's sobs breaking John's heart, his eyes silently begging to take all the pain away. Dean took fast, short breaths trying to calm himself but of no avail, tears now freely streaming down his cheeks.

Just as John thought Dean got a grip again, violent coughs wrecked his son's body, making the pain even worse. That's when John noticed the blood speckling his son's lips and chin. _'That's not a good sign'_ was his first thought.

Dean noticed his father's stare on his lips and brought up a hand to his mouth. As soon as he laid eyes on the blood he started panicking. John couldn't blame him. A couple months ago they had worked a case a few states over. The victims were coughing up blood as well and none of them survived. They painfully died choking on their own blood. The hunt had bothered Dean the last few weeks anyway which wasn't helping.

And even if they hadn't worked the case, John always lectured Dean about how blood in the lungs means internal bleedings and death without immediate medical help.

John desperately tried to calm his trashing son. "Shh Dean, calm down, I'll get you to a hospital you'll be just fine". But his words fell on deaf ears. Dean grabbed his Dad's arm, the grip incredibly tight, his fearful, puffy, eyes looking right into John's. "Please don't let me die… I don't want to die, Dad, please…please help me", he whispered frantically, clinging to his Dad.

John didn't know what to say. The only thing he could hear was his heart shattering into a million pieces. Seeing his son falling apart like this, his strong, brave son, with his usual cocky smile and the sarcasm that was almost annoying at times, the person that could lit up a room simply by entering it. The person that patched him up so many times after rough hunts and told him everything would be OK. Who took care of Sammy, who would give everything he has to protect his family because he is the most genuine person out there.

Everything John did was pull his son into a tight hug. Dean, delirious and exhausted from blood loss and also scared like hell just kept whispering: "Please don't let me die… please" until he just started sobbing into his father's shoulder.

By now there were angry tears rolling down John's face as well. This was not how it was supposed to be. This was not how he and Mary had wanted it. They had wanted a normal life with a nice house and a happy family. With two boys who could go to college and have their own family and life happily ever after just like every other average family in America. That's what they wanted and now Mary was dead and Dean was bleeding out in the middle of nowhere on the dirty forest ground.

' _Pull yourself together John. This is not the time for self-pity'_ , his subconscious told him. John angrily wiped the tears away and refocused on his son. He took Dean's face, which had already turned a weird grey shade by now, into his hands. "I won't let you die. I won't let that happen. I promise you that". With that he hauled Dean back to his feet.

 **A/N: I'm thinking about eventually writing a second chapter, so leave a review to tell me what you think. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm back, finally! Sorry for the long wait but I really couldn't find any time to finish this and also my internet wasn't working for a couple of weeks but enough of the excuses;** **here is how the story continues. I also just wanted to say thanks for the nice reviews real quick, I felt very humbled and I hope you like the rest:)**

Sam's POV

' _Don't worry Sammy, just a little werewolf hunt. We'll be back in no time, you'll see'_ "Little hunt, my ass", Sam mumbled pacing the motel room floor furiously.

4 hours and 32 minutes. That's how long Dean and his Dad had been gone now, which was way too long for a _little_ werewolf hunt.

And even the expression 'little hunt'. That sounded as if the little ones were easy and thus less dangerous which was definitely not the case and Dean- of all people- should know that. There are just no easy hunts out there.

Sometimes Sam really would like to knock some sense into his brother, with a punch to the face for example. He hated this attitude: ' _Don't be such a baby, Sammy. I'm fine nothing happened'_ Yeah right, nothing but some bruised ribs and a sprained ankle from when a spirit tossed you through an old window. _'It's only a slight concussion, nothing to worry about'_ Oh it's only a _slight_ concussion, right what was I thinking.

Sam just couldn't understand it, constantly risking your life and looking death right in the eye. And for what? The ego? Sometimes it seemed like that, like Dean just wanted to prove himself to his Dad. Who wasn't any better by the way, but probably ten times worse.

It was so nerve wracking and Sam hated it, because he was always the one waiting. Waiting and praying that everything went alright, that no one got hurt, that they wouldn't have to bury another family member.

And maybe it wasn't just always the worry bugging him. He also felt left out. It always seemed like he wasn't part of the invincible team, or even part of the family. Like he was just weighing them down and making them weaker.

This hunt as well, Sam had begged his Dad to tag along, to do something important that matters. But he had said no, just plain no. _'Next time Sam, you are not well trained enough yet'_ that's what his Dad had said. But Sam was making progress and he had gotten a lot better, his Dad just didn't seem to see it. Maybe he didn't want to. Why should he, Dean was the perfect hunter and great back-up. No need for additional _burdens_.

It made Sam so mad sometimes. All he was good for was research. _'Research is the most important part of a hunt.'_ Yeah nice try, Dean.

Sam's eyes wandered over to the clock for the 50th time in the last 2 minutes.

2:11am

He let himself fall onto the chair he's been sitting on for the last few hours. His homework assignment laying forgotten on the table. His eyes landed in the phone on his father's nightstand. Maybe he should try to call them. But Sam hesitated. The last time he had called his Dad on a hunt, he had gotten one hell of a lecture afterwards, because apparently they had been hiding from some creature at that very moment and the ring tone had given them away. After Sam had argued that it was John's own fault if he hadn't put the phone on mute, he ended up with a grounding and extra training every morning for a couple of weeks.

Sam decided to keep waiting for a little bit. He was probably just overreacting.

John's POV

' _Dear God, if you're out there. I really could use some help right now!'_ John thought while stumbling through the dark forest, one hand still securely wrapped around his son's torso.

At this point he wasn't supporting Dean anymore though; he was simply dragging him forward. At least he was still conscious, John could tell from the occasional grunts, which gave him a little bit of hope.

Luckily Winchesters are very stubborn SOB's, because by now John was moving forward out of sheer will power. Still he could feel the adrenaline wearing of and thus his strength leaving him. Just as he almost fell again he decided to take a short break.

"Alright buddy let's slow down for a second" He gently laid Dean down onto the cool ground, so that he was leaning against a tree trunk. John slumped down opposite of his son. They sat in complete silence the only sound both of their panting breaths.

John mustered his son. The walk had visibly exhausted him. His bloodshot eyes stood out against his ashen face. Even from the distance the oldest Winchester could see the blood dripping from Dean's mouth and his hands, that were still trying to hold the blood soaked bandages into place.

John checked his watch. 2:11 am

Bobby should be there in the next couple of minutes. Well there, at the car. John had no idea how far it still was until they would reach the Impala.

' _Well done Winchester'_ John sighed and hauled himself back up to crouch down in front of Dean. "It can't be far anymore and Bobby will be here soon. You ready to keep going?" he asked softly. He could see Dean was not understanding one word he was saying, only half-conscious and too focused on the constant pain. So John didn't wait for an answer and against Dean's soft protest's he brought him back into a standing position.

They kept going for a couple of minutes before Dean slumped against his father completely unconscious.

"Hey buddy, wake up". John shook Dean slightly, but got no response. "Common Dean". He took his son's face in his hands. Still nothing. "Common you have to wake up". John got more and more desperate by the second but Dean still wouldn't move one bit. "Common…common" he muttered padding his son's cheek.

"Dean common!" he shouted right into his son's face. Panic started to erupt in his body. ' _Stay calm you have to focus'_ he told himself but the fear was making his heart beat way too fast and it felt like he was suffocating, until he heard a distant shout: "JOHN…JOHN WHERE ARE YOU?"

John's eyes shot up. "Bobby", he mumbled. "BOBBY WE'RE HERE". He turned his head around trying to find their rescuer between the dense undergrowth.

Finally he could make out a figure approaching. John stumbled forward, his vision swimming from the tears in his eyes.

As soon as Bobby reached them, he threw an arm around Dean's hips to take the weight off of John. "I can't get him to wake up, Bobby…he won't wake up…" John said frantically.

Bobby knew the situation was bad; still he was a little shocked seeing the mighty John Winchester, who didn't know feelings, like this, with tears running down his cheeks barely able to stand on his own two feet. It seemed like he still did have a heart, even though he liked to pretend otherwise.

But Bobby wasn't judging. He was more concerned about Dean to think about anything else right now. The boy was as pale as a ghost and if Bobby hadn't felt the steady pulse on his neck he would have claimed him dead.

"Don't worry, John. Dean is still breathing and the car isn't far away" Bobby reassured the upset father. John just replied with a short nod. Bobby adjusted his grip on Dean's waist and they kept going.

John could have cried tears of joy when he could finally spot the Impala in the distance, next to Bobby's rusty truck. John and Bobby were both utterly exhausted when they finally reached the vehicles, but there was no time to rest. Dean needed help, immediately.

With trembling hands, John tried to unlock the car door. "Let me" Bobby said and took the keys out of John's hands. He handed Dean over and opened the back doors. "Go with him into the back seat. I'll drive", Bobby ordered and helped John load his injured son into the Impala. After that he hurried around the car to take the seat behind the steering wheel.

The drive to the hospital was painfully long. In the rear-view mirror Bobby could watch John caress Dean's cheek. It was weird seeing John like this. Like the loving father he always should be. It was even weirder seeing Dean laying there completely still, the boy who usually never sits still, not even for a couple of minutes. His face most of the time drawn into a cocky grin, was all expressionless. Just a small frown because of the pain he had to bear for way too long now. Bobby focused back on the street and pressed the accelerator further down.

After what felt like two eternities they could finally see the hospital sign in the distance. The Impala came to a skittering halt right in front of the entrance. John registered Bobby jumping out of the car and yelling stuff. After that everything ended up in one big blur of people shouting, paramedics approaching them, his son being taken away on a stretcher, different people asking questions, forms being filled out, a woman constantly talking about insurance. But John didn't want to hear any of that. He wanted to know if his son was OK. A doctor talked to them, but John didn't comprehend anything of what he said. He just knew his son was in surgery and it wasn't looking good.

Somehow he and Bobby ended up in the waiting area. He didn't know what time it was. Actually he wasn't sure about anything. The only thing on his mind was his son fighting for his life behind those doors.

John was glad Bobby was still with him. It was comforting to have a clear mind around. Well clearer than his right now.

4:39am that's what the clock said. For about 2 hours they had been sitting on the way too hard chairs in the waiting area now. Not a single soul walking by. It seemed like the whole hospital was resting. There were also no news on Dean's condition which was making John more restless by the minute.

"Ima go get some coffee" Bobby mumbled suddenly standing up and stretching his tired limps. John didn't reply, just kept staring onto the opposite wall. When Bobby was about to turn around the corner John finally said: "Thank you Bobby" who turned back around to face the oldest Winchester. He hesitated shortly. "Don't thank me yet, you don't know what's gonna come" and headed off to the cafeteria. John sighed and leaned back in his chair.

He almost dozed off when suddenly the door to the waiting area opened again. The worried father shot up, expecting the doctor with some news about his son. Instead there was a mother entering the room one arm wrapped around her son, who couldn't be older than 11 or 12. The woman greeted John with a curt nod. The boy didn't even seem to notice the oldest Winchester. He just miserably eyed the white cast steadying his arm. With his brown curls and the skinny frame he reminded John a lot of…

"Sam", John murmured his mind sobering up immediately. He had been so occupied with worrying about his oldest that he had totally forgotten his youngest, still waiting back in the motel room. He was probably worried sick by now.

In one motion John fished his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled the number of the phone he had left in the motel room.

"Dad is that you?" Sam's distressed voice greeted him. "Yes it's me…" "Where the hell are you guys? I've been waiting for hours. Did you finish the job? You're OK, right? Everything is alright, right?..." Sam didn't stop babbling. "Woah Sam slow down. Yes we finished the hunt", John replied. "So you're gonna come home soon", Sam sighed in relief.

"No Sam", John hesitated. "We can't… the hunt didn't exactly go as planned…"

"What do you mean didn't go as planned", Sam asked carefully. John sighed "I was able to kill the werewolf…but not before it got Dean." He was greeted with silence.

"Sam, are you still there?"

"How is he, Dad?" His sons voice sounded calm but John knew he was furious inside and only not shouting at him because he was too worried about his big brother. "He is still in surgery", John explained softly. Again only silence. "I wanna be there", Sam stated suddenly. "In the hospital, with Dean. I wanna be there"

John hadn't expected anything else and replied: "Bobby is here. He can pick you up" "Alright" Before John could say another word, Sam had ended the phone call.

John knew Sam blamed him for this. And somehow he was right. Dean hadn't been ready for a werewolf hunt yet. Even though he liked to pretend otherwise he is still quite new to hunting. Well actual hunting, no researching.

John cursed. He shouldn't have made such a major mistake. He should have called Caleb or Pastor Jim for help. And now Dean was in hospital fighting for his life. John let himself fall back into his chair.

When Bobby came back, John told him about his conversation with Sam and Bobby agreed on picking the youngest Winchester up at the motel room.

When they came back, John was already sitting in a room in the ICU at his son's bedside. He had had a short talk with the doctor, who had used a lot of medical terms John's tired mind hadn't understood. He just knew that they had fixed his son and even though his condition was still critical, they were confident that he would make it just fine.

' _They probably say that to everyone'_ John tried to not listen to those thoughts. Dean was strong, stronger than any other patient in this hospital. He would make it.

Still in this very moment he looked so fragile and young, it was scary to think that he was battling a werewolf a couple of hours ago.

When Sam and Bobby entered the room, Sam completely ignored his Dad. In one motion he was at his brother's side, taking his hand into his own, his eyes carefully eyeing all the wires attached to Dean and the tube helping him to breathe.

"Dammit, Dean. What did you get yourself into this time", Sam whispered with a humourless chuckle. Bobby kept standing in the door frame, taking in the picture of the broken, little family. How could John let it get this far, after what he had already lost? This question had been circling Bobby's mind since he had gotten John's frantic phone call a couple of hours ago. Bobby sighed and let himself fall onto a chair. Even he wasn't able to change such a messed up person like John Winchester.

Hours went by, without any of them talking, just listening to the heart monitor's steady beeping. Occasionally a nurse came in to check Dean's condition and renew the IV.

When John suggested Sam to go back to the motel room to get some sleep he was just greeted with an icy glare. So they kept waiting. One of them once in a while getting some food from the cafeteria, just to throw it into the bin, because none of them had any appetite. Coffee was the only thing keeping John going at this point.

It took 2 days before Dean regained consciousness for the first time. Sam was the first one to notice. They were beyond relieved when Dean talked to them, although he was not fully lucid because of the high pain medication he was getting and after a couple of minutes he was asleep again. A doctor came in to check him out and it seemed like John could finally breathe again for the first time in 2 days when he told them that the wounds were healing nicely and after a couple days rest Dean would be good to go.

The next time Dean woke up, John was alone in the room with him. "Where is Sam?" Dean whispered, slowly taking in his surroundings. "He is in the motel room. Bobby convinced him to get some sleep, because he almost passed out." John explained slowly. "Sounds like him", Dean chuckled softly.

Neither of them really knew what to say, so they sat in an awkward silence for a while. Although the tension was driving John crazy, he just didn't know what to say or even where to start.

"I'm sorry, Dad", Dean rasped after a couple of minutes his eyes big and full of guilt. John was perplexed. What was Dean apologising for?

"I should have been more careful. If I had been more focused, I could have spotted the werewolf. I could have shot him. I was just not…"

"Hey Dean stop!", John said taking his son's hands. "Don't blame yourself. Stuff like this happens, OK. It's the risk of hunting."

Dean sighed. "Next time I'm gonna be better, I promise!"

John swallowed: "Yeah _next time_ "

 **The End**

 **A/N: I hope you liked the end of the story. If you did (or not I'm open for everything) leave a review:)**

 **Little side note: you might have noticed that I didn't use any specific medical terms or descriptions. Well I'm not a native speaker and don't know a lot of words in that area (Not even in my own language). I thought I'd be OK because that's not what the story is all about.**


End file.
